


Day 287

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [287]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [287]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 287

Gomes was in agony. His body had been working for days on end with very few breaks. Even in all his years as a laborer he had never had to work such long hours and his muscles were barely able to handle it. He would have collapsed from exhaustion long ago but his body kept working regardless of how he felt. Then the guards had arrived and he briefly thought he was saved until his legs had carried him away from rescue. The mages put him to sleep then and he woke up sore but refreshed mentally. That was the worst part. When he was tired it distracted him from everything going on around him. Now he was very much aware of every cramp, sore muscle, the rocks in his shoes or the sting of sweat in his eyes.

The eyes were the worst. For days he wanted nothing more than to wipe the stinging sweat from his brow but could not without permission from his masters. Only when his sight was affected to the point where he could not do the tasks set before him did they bother to do anything.

Now he stood in a room with a dozen others just like them. In the brief moments when their eyes met he could see the same fear and terror he himself felt. Most of them were laborers but a few looked like soldiers. Guards or mercenaries maybe. They were all standing there while a few mages wandered around appraising them like chattel.

One of them, an elven woman, stopped at Gomes and started poking at his arms and chest.

“This one is still strong,” she said. “We’ll get much use out of him yet.”

“That’s the one Grace sent to us,” another elf replied.

“The one the guards came looking for,” someone else added.

“Well,” said the elven woman giving Gomes an appraising look. “We should keep him around regardless then. He might prove useful one day.”

She moved over to the woman beside Gomes looking her over, head to toe, as she had Gomes.

“This one, on the other hand,” she said dismissively. “She looks like she could barely lift a pickaxe, nevermind use it.”

Gomes couldn’t see them very well from the corner of his eye but he remembered the woman from when they had all been marched in together. She was at least sixty, and had been working alongside them since before Gomes had joined the group. He had noticed her joints were swollen at the wrists and elbows, just like his father’s had been near the end of his life. They looked painful and Gomes could only imagine how much worse it would be for her.

“She won’t last much longer,” said the elf. “We’ll use her for the ritual.”

Gomes was terrified to learn what that ritual might be. He remembered the man who had had his throat slit the other day. One of the mages had used his blood to attack the guards who had come to his rescue It seemed when they were no longer needed for labor the mages would find one last use for them. As the old woman and a few others were marched out of the room, Gomes wondered which group were the lucky ones.


End file.
